By Kristin Gardner EBS GUEST COLUMNIST
I pay close attention to Montana’s snowpack—not just as a skier, but because snowpack is the foundation of our water supply. What falls in the mountains over the course of a few cold months determines how much water flows through our rivers and drinking water aquifers for the rest of the year. This winter, the snowpack story is a familiar one, and it carries important lessons for how we manage water in the Gallatin River basin and beyond.
A changing snowpack landscape
Recent water supply reports from the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Natural Resources Conservation Service shows that December brought significant precipitation to much of Montana. But where and how that precipitation fell matters. At higher elevations, colder temperatures helped preserve snowpack, leaving many sites near or above average. At lower elevations, warmer storms brought rain instead of snow, erasing early accumulation and reducing overall storage.
This growing divide—described by Micah Drew as a “tale of two snowpacks” in his recent article—has real consequences. Snowpack, measured as snow water equivalent, is our most reliable form of natural water storage. When snow is concentrated higher in the mountains and missing at lower elevations, runoff becomes harder to predict, peak flows could arrive earlier and late-season water supplies are more vulnerable. Even in basins like the Gallatin, where snowpack currently looks relatively healthy on paper, warming temperatures and rain-on-snow events introduce uncertainty that didn’t exist a few decades ago.
Why recycled snowmaking is good news
These changing conditions are part of the reason we’ve supported Big Sky’s move toward recycled snowmaking. In 2025, the Montana Department of Environmental Quality approved a program that allows highly treated wastewater to be reused for snowmaking at Big Sky Resort through a partnership with the Spanish Peaks Mountain Club. This decision reflects years of planning, scientific review and collaboration among water managers, regulators and conservation groups.
Recycled snowmaking isn’t about creating more demand for water—it’s about using water more responsibly. Instead of diverting fresh surface water or groundwater during times when rivers are already stressed, this program reuses water that has already served the community once. That water is treated to high standards, turned into snow and returned to the landscape gradually as it melts.
The project will be implemented in phases, with the potential to reuse up to 44 million gallons of water each year. That water stays in the basin, supporting groundwater recharge and streamflows rather than being lost from the system. Snow made from recycled water behaves like natural snow, melting slowly and predictably. It helps reduce pressure on rivers during low-flow periods and supports the winter economy that Big Sky and surrounding communities depend on.
It’s also important to note that recycled snowmaking is not a silver bullet. It doesn’t replace the need for healthy snowpack, intact headwaters or long-term climate solutions. But it is one practical tool among many—alongside other water conservation efforts and smart planning—that can help drought-prone communities adapt to a future where snow and water are less predictable.
What this means moving forward
The intersection of snowpack trends and recycled snowmaking highlights a broader truth: how we manage water in the face of change matters. Elevation is increasingly determining where snow accumulates and how long it lasts. That reality calls for creative, science-based approaches that protect rivers while recognizing the economic realities of mountain communities.
Big Sky’s recycled snowmaking program reflects an effort to strike that balance. As other communities across the West grapple with similar challenges, I hope this approach helps demonstrate that conservation and innovation don’t have to be at odds—and that thoughtful water reuse can be part of a resilient future for our rivers and our communities.
Kristin Gardner is the chief executive and science officer of Gallatin River Task Force.
